


Reconciliation

by Magicofisis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Romance, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-20
Updated: 2006-01-20
Packaged: 2018-10-27 18:17:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10814220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magicofisis/pseuds/Magicofisis
Summary: Two years is a long time to hold a grudge, so Ron makes a last ditch effort to earn back Harry's trust.





	Reconciliation

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: f you squint, you might see some plot. Many thanks to the most wonderful beta reader on the planet – you know who you are and how much I adore you! Merry Smutmas, [](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=thepsychicclam)[**thepsychicclam**](http://thepsychicclam.livejournal.com/)! Hope this hits the spot.  


* * *

It was stiflingly hot in the small conference room at Auror Headquarters, and Ron knew he was in trouble the moment he walked through the door. Rufus Scrimgeour himself was seated at the table, flanked by Shacklebolt, Dawlish and his instructor, Yves. Ron's stomach knotted with anxiety as he tried to figure out what the hell he had done to earn a confidential meeting with the Auror Office's heaviest hitters and the Minister of Magic. They motioned for him to sit, and he did so, albeit on the edge of his seat.  
  
"Hello, Weasley. I'm a busy man, so I'll skip the pleasantries. There seems to be a bit of an issue with Potter," said Scrimgeour.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Yves tells me that he's been at the top of the Auror class since entering the academy – not that anyone is particularly surprised by this, given his prior accomplishments. The problem is that he won't partner with anybody. What do you make of this, Weasley?"  
  
Ron swallowed hard. Things between him and Harry had been messed up for a long time, and he didn't relish airing his dirty laundry to this audience. "He prefers to work alone, sir. It's not that we won't work with him; he doesn't want us to."  
  
Kingsley's brows furrowed into one long arch. "An Auror can't work in isolation, Ron. It's too dangerous, both to the Auror and to the success of the missions we undertake. We need your help to convince Harry to work with the other trainees. Direct orders to cooperate with others have so far received only enough compliance to ensure that he wouldn't be thrown out of the academy for insubordination."  
  
"The problem, as I see it," chimed in Dawlish, "is that he doesn't trust anyone but himself."  
  
Ron's head was spinning. Dawlish had nailed the problem on its head. Harry trusted no one, least of all Ron. Why in the world would they think Ron could advise them on this when he hadn't had a meaningful conversation with Harry in almost two years?  
  
"He has a difficult time trusting," said Ron tentatively. "People have not believed him in the past, and it's led to some…er…really horrible things. I don't know how I can help; he doesn't trust me, either."  
  
"But he could," said Kingsley. "We think you might be the only one that has enough history with Harry to get through to him. Partnering him exclusively with you would be enough so that we wouldn't have to let him go. He's too talented to lose – we need him on our side."  
  
"I don't think he'll be keen on that idea," groaned Ron, not liking the sound of this at all.  
  
Ignoring Ron's hesitation, Yves stood up and said, "I'm going to send the two of you on a trust-building mission together. The premise will be to gather information on a Death Eater cluster we've heard rumors about, but your main task will be to develop a working relationship that can be sustained on subsequent missions."  
  
Ron's head started to hurt. "And if I fail?"  
  
"Then I'm afraid we'll have to ask him to leave."  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Ron arrived at the rustic cottage a few minutes before Harry, just long enough to survey the place and determine that they were going to have to work out their problems sooner rather than later. There was a tiny bedroom with one large bed that took up most of the floor space, and another room that had a kitchen in one corner and a sofa along the far wall. The cottage made Hagrid's hut at Hogwarts seem luxurious by comparison.  
  
Harry Apparated in with a loud pop. He looked around and quickly came to the same conclusion that Ron had.  
  
"Not much space here. We'd best find out about this Death Eater enclave as soon as possible so we can get the hell out of here."  
  
Harry wandered into the bedroom to put his things away and called out, "Just one bed I see – do you want to sleep in here or on the couch?"  
  
"Doesn't matter," said Ron. It suddenly dawned on him that this would be the most time he'd spent alone with Harry since the night Ginny had died. Ron wondered if Harry felt as awkward as he did.  
  
Harry emerged from the bedroom looking ready for action. He filled a glass with water from the tap and leaned against the counter.  
  
"I'll go into the village and see what I can find out. Why don't you study those maps they gave us and search for possible hiding places?"  
  
Ron shook his head. "No, Harry. We're supposed to do this together, work as a team. I think we should both go."  
  
Harry glared at him, obviously irritated. "It'll be quicker if I go by myself, and I'll attract a lot less attention."  
  
Something about Harry's response struck Ron as off. Didn't he realize what they needed to do? "Harry," Ron said slowly, "what exactly did they tell you about this mission?"  
  
Harry looked puzzled. "Yves just said that there was a possible cluster of Death Eaters in this area, and that he'd assigned the two of us to check it out. We aren't to return until we get positive confirmation one way or the other. Why?"  
  
Ron was dumbfounded. "He didn't say anything about this being a team-building mission?"  
  
"No," said Harry. "All he said was what I just told you."  
  
Ron's anger rose and was accompanied by a crimson flush across his face. "What a bunch of fucking wankers! You mean they didn't say anything to you about keeping your place at the academy?"  
  
The intensity of Harry's glare shot daggers through Ron. "What do you mean by that? My spot isn't in danger, is it? I'm top in the class. What did they tell you, Ron?"  
  
Heaving a deep sigh, Ron sank into one of the chairs at the kitchen table grumbling to himself, "I can't fucking believe them. How the hell am I supposed to do this when they send him off without telling him why we're here? Yeah, lie to him. That'll help things." He glared pleadingly at Harry. "You'd better sit down for this."  
  
"I'd rather stand here, thank—"  
  
"Sit!" roared Ron. He so rarely raised his voice at anyone, especially Harry, that it shocked Harry into compliance. Shaking his head to try to gather his wits, Ron reined in his emotions before continuing.  
  
"Harry, I'm going to be totally honest here and tell you everything they told me. I had no idea that the fucking cowards weren't planning to tell you this, but a few days ago, they pulled me aside and told me it wasn't acceptable for you to work alone. They said if they couldn't find anyone who you'd be willing to partner with, they were going to have to sack you."  
  
Harry eyed him skeptically. "Sack me? But they can't. I'm best in the class and they all know it."  
  
"Well they don't want to," said Ron crossly, "but they said it's too dangerous to both you and to your missions if you don't have back-up. Frankly, I'm inclined to agree with them."  
  
"So they assumed I'd want to partner with _you_?" Harry said accusingly.  
  
"I tried to tell them it—"  
  
Harry interrupted. "Yeah? Did you tell them that you betrayed me when I needed you the most? Did you say that if Neville had taken your side and gone with you instead of staying with me, we'd have all been killed and Voldemort would still be alive? Did you tell them how you contributed to Ginny's death?"  
  
At the mention of his sister's name, Ron's face turned alabaster. "No, I didn't. Look, Harry, how long are you going to keep blaming me? How many times do I have to say I'm sorry I fucked up? I was wrong, okay? I should have believed you. You were right, and I was a fucking idiot not to do what you said. Is that what you want to hear? Because it's true, all right? God, she was my sister, and you act like you're the only one who feels guilty about what happened. I miss her every day. But I can't bring her back, Harry, and I'm sorry."  
  
Harry's eyes narrowed as he said, "It hurt that you didn't trust me, Ron. That hurt almost as much as losing Ginny. I didn't expect Hermione to believe me – she never did – but I expected better from you. And I was right, and Ginny had to pay for your fucking mistake."  
  
"Harry, you don't know how it looked," shouted Ron angrily. "You were ranting on like a crazy man, and Hermione sounded so rational, and we all thought you were going around the twist. It didn't occur to us that Voldemort would kill Ginny to try to lure you out of hiding."  
  
"You trusted Hermione more than me!"  
  
"I thought I was in love with her! I wasn't rational either. If I had been, I'd have realized that your gut feelings were always right, even if you couldn't explain why. I'm sorry." Ron was breathing heavily. He'd known that they'd have to work through what happened two years ago if Harry was ever to trust him again; he hadn't expected to do it ten minutes after arriving at the cottage, however.  
  
"I'd always thought you were different, but you turned out to be just like everyone else," hissed Harry.  
  
"How can you say that?" retorted Ron. "I've always, _always_ , been loyal to you, Harry. Even when everyone else thought you were barking mad, I defended you. I made a mistake. One enormous fucking huge mistake. Why can't you forgive me?"  
  
"I don't know!" screamed Harry. For the first time, Ron heard frustration in Harry's voice rather than anger. Deep inside, he knew that Harry missed him and wanted things to be different between them; that's what Ron wanted, too.  
  
They stared at each other in an awkward silence for a long time. "Let me earn back your trust," said Ron finally, "and your friendship. You owe me a chance to make it up to you."  
  
Harry's gaze bore into Ron again. "Maybe I do. But how do I know you're not going to fall for some girl and betray me again?"  
  
"I'm not," said Ron quickly. "Anyway, after Hermione, I'm through with girls. I trust you, Harry, and I want you to trust me. I'll do anything to prove it to you."  
  
"Anything?" asked Harry, an amused glint in his eye. "Good. Then you can be the woman when we go into the village disguised as a married couple."  
  
Ron shook his head – he'd walked straight into that one. Well, at least it was cold so he could wear a cloak the whole time; aside from the glamour charm on his face and hair, he need only don women's stockings and shoes. "All right," Ron agreed, "but do try to keep your hands to yourself, would you?" He hurried off to the bedroom to transfigure his clothes, feeling as if he'd made a fairly decent start.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
The villagers down at the pub were a highly suspicious lot, but they quickly warmed up to the friendly young couple on holiday from London. Harry and Ron were careful to keep themselves to themselves at first, knowing that it would seem strange if they suddenly started asking questions about other people who had just arrived. This strategy gave them ample time to talk to each other over dinner about their lives during the past two years.  
  
"I've spent a lot of time reading," Harry said in response to Ron's query. "I think I've read every book on Defense theory sold by Flourish and Blotts, as well as a few that I borrowed from the Hogwarts library. You know, Hermione might have been onto something with that theory that reading leads to good marks."  
  
"If you don't mind, could we not talk about her?" asked Ron.  
  
"Yeah, all right. Except that I have to say, I'm curious as hell to know why the two of you broke up."  
  
"She said I was blaming her about Ginny," said Ron with a shrug, "and for coming between you and me. Maybe I was – I don't know."  
  
"You said you swore off girls after her. You don't date at all?" Harry wore a strange look as he said this.  
  
"I'll pull a bloke every once in a while – it's easier to have anonymous sex with them. Girls always want you to talk." He glanced up to see Harry's surprised expression. "Oh, sorry, I thought everybody in our class knew that I swing both ways. I haven't really kept it a secret."  
  
"The others – they don't actually talk to me. Especially about you." Harry looked sad as he said this, as if he'd only just realized that he'd missed out on a lot by being so aloof in Auror class. Harry's eyes flicked past Ron, and he said, "Quick, give me your hand."  
  
Without stopping to question why, Ron shoved his hand into Harry's. He tried not to flinch when a ring suddenly appeared on his finger. Seconds later, the waitress appeared at their table. Harry smiled at Ron and Ron smiled back.  
  
"Ah, young love! I remember when my William looked at me like that. Mind you, it's been a few years. Now, can I get you anything else this evening?"  
  
Ron blushed, which didn't do anything to correct the waitress's interpretation of what she'd seen. Harry said, "No thank you," and he paid for their food. Ron and Harry held hands as they left the pub, laughing as they overheard the waitress comment on the young woman's hefty appetite.  
  
Once back at the cottage, Harry and Ron ended their glamour charms and Ron went into the bedroom to change his clothes. He'd just pulled off his robes when he noticed that Harry had followed him and was sitting cross-legged on the bed.  
  
"Er, hello," said Ron as he sat down on the bed to take off the horrible women's shoes he'd been wearing. It was clear that Harry wanted something from him, and Ron was more than a little apprehensive to learn what that something might be.  
  
"I shouldn't have made you dress up like that," blurted Harry. He was staring at Ron's legs.  
  
Ron was wearing his boxers under suspenders that were holding the stockings in place. He hadn't felt self-conscious about them until he'd noticed Harry staring. "That's all right. It's a good disguise, and I don't think anyone suspects we're Aurors."  
  
Harry closed his eyes. "No, I don't mean it like that. I have a bit of a thing for…oh, hell, it's the stockings, Ron."  
  
Ron was nothing short of astounded. So Harry had stockings kink, did he? It would be fun to tease him about it, and maybe they could get back to the way things used to be, when they took the piss all the time. Ron was sure he could get Harry to be his friend again if they could only relax around each other the way they used to.  
  
"You like them, do you? Okay, I'll just leave them on then." Ron stood up and modeled them for Harry. He turned so that Harry could see what he looked like from the back. "These are rather nice ones, with the seams going up the back. Although I'm not sure that the red suspenders are a very good color on me."  
  
"Fuck you, Ron," said Harry as he raced out of the room and slammed the door to the bathroom behind him.  
  
Ron was thoroughly bewildered. What the hell had just happened? Whatever he had done to raise Harry's ire was not going to help him at all with his quest to get back on speaking terms with his former best mate. He quickly pulled the stockings off and went to pound on the bathroom door.  
  
"Harry, there's no point being angry with me if you don't tell me what I've done to deserve it. Whatever it was, I'm sorry. Would you come out and talk to me?" Upon receiving no answer, Ron knocked several more times. Then he heard Harry turn the shower on and he gave up.  
  
Ron went back into the bedroom and settled on the bed. He rested his head against the wall, which happened to be the one shared with the bathroom. With his ear nearly pressing against it, he could hear faint moans and he knew exactly what was going on in the next room.  
  
"Bloody hell, he's wanking in there," muttered Ron under his breath. This was a very interesting turn of events. He'd intended to wind Harry up, not tease him like _that_. Ron had assumed Harry to be a 'ladies only' man, but if he could branch out a bit, then why couldn't Harry?  
  
It's not that he minded Harry being interested in him like that – he was a frequent guest in Ron's fantasies, after all. But sex at this point – when they were just trying to piece together their friendship – was probably not the best idea. Unless, of course, it was Harry's idea.  
  
Ron tried to imagine several scenarios which would end up with them having sex. He tried not to get his hopes up, because it seemed fairly unlikely at this point. After what they'd been through for the past two years, he'd be happy just to get his best mate back. Still, it was fun to think about.  
  
Ron was stretched out on the bed, pondering, when Harry flopped down next to him.  
  
"I'm sorry for swearing at you," said Harry sheepishly.  
  
"It's already forgotten," replied Ron. "Although I wouldn't mind if you told me what I did to upset you so that I don't accidentally do it again."  
  
"It's nothing you did, Ron. I was angry with myself because I…" Harry paused, searching for words to express himself. "You know, dinner with you tonight was the most fun I've had in two years – even if you were dressed up like a girl – and then I went and ruined the evening."  
  
Ron said, "It isn't ruined. And, er, before, with the stockings…I was just messing around. I hope you didn't think I was, you know, coming on to you or anything. I mean, I don't even know if you like blokes, and anyway, now would not be the time to do something like that – not that I wouldn't love to at some point – but you know what I mean. I was just going to wind you up a bit. About the stockings, that is."  
  
Harry sat up, hugging his knees to his chest. "I didn't think that. And how would you have known what I like – it's not like we ever talk about stuff like that." He paused, taking off his glasses and setting them on the bedside table. Ron waited as Harry chose his words carefully. "Remember when we used to sit around and waffle about completely useless stuff for hours? How did we manage to fuck things up between us so bad? I don't even know where to start to get back to that. I'm rubbish with relationships."  
  
Ron smirked. "You forget that I was the boy with the emotional range of a teaspoon. I think that's why we always got along." Harry laughed and nodded. "So, if we're both rubbish at talking things out, where does that leave us?"  
  
"I don't know," shrugged Harry. "I usually act on instinct."  
  
"So what is your instinct telling you right now?"  
  
Harry licked his lips and swallowed hard. "It's…well…it's pretty much just telling me to kiss you."  
  
"Merlin's balls – then you do like blokes!" exclaimed Ron as he sat upright on the bed to be face to face with Harry. His enthusiasm for Harry's idea must have shown, because Harry's face broke out into a wide grin.  
  
"I think I just like Weasleys," said Harry.  
  
Ron rubbed his thumb along Harry's cheek. "Trust your instincts, Harry," whispered Ron reverently. "I do."  
  
Ron held back, letting Harry take the lead. When Harry's lips met his, a strong shiver raced down his spine. Kissing Harry was nothing like he'd imagined it would be. Almost instantly, Ron felt his emotions welling up inside of him, and the intensity of his reaction scared him. Ron kept his eyes open when they kissed again, this time with Harry's hand curved gently behind his head. The hungry expression on Harry's face, the pressure of his lips on Ron's, and the way the passion seemed to build as the kiss continued all conspired to turn Ron's insides to mush.  
  
" _Oh, Harry_ ," Ron moaned.  
  
Harry's eyes met Ron's uncertainly. "Is this all right? Oh God, you said now isn't the time, didn't—"  
  
Ron cut him off with a kiss. He snaked his tongue between Harry's parted lips, demanding more and trying to convince Harry that it was, indeed, a brilliant idea. Without breaking the kiss, Ron pushed Harry's back onto the bed, propping himself on his elbows. Between kisses, Ron said, "This is…without a doubt…the finest…idea… you've ever…had."  
  
Ron laid a path of kisses from Harry's lips to his left ear, and then along his jaw line to the hollow of his neck. He could hear Harry gasp as Ron circled his tongue at the base of his throat. And then Harry fought for dominance and won, ravishing Ron's mouth with the zeal of one who'd been denied for a very long time. They continued for nearly an hour, although Ron had quickly lost track of the time, their mission and anything else that wasn't Harry.  
  
Ron couldn't remember ever being so turned on, and while he kissed Harry, he rutted against the mattress. Unlike Harry, he hadn't had the benefit of wanking in the shower, and his sense of urgency grew the longer they kissed.  
  
"How far do you want to take this?" panted Ron.  
  
Harry's eyes had been closed, but they flew open at Ron's question. "Wh-what do you mean?"  
  
"I mean that if your instinct was telling you to have sex, I'd be more than willing to follow through."  
  
Harry froze, and Ron wondered if he'd said too much. But he didn't think so. He'd offered, not expected, and he didn't think he was pressuring.  
  
Harry blushed slightly as he said, "I've, er, never done it before."  
  
"Oh," said Ron, relieved that Harry wasn't upset with him. "It's not much different than having sex with a girl unless you're a bottom, in which case—"  
  
"No, I've never done it with a girl, either."  
  
Of all the scenarios Ron had concocted in his head, a virginal Harry was not one of them. He was at a loss as to how to respond to this new information. He tried to keep his voice steady as he said, "Really? I'd have guessed that you could pull anyone you want."  
  
"I was saving myself for Ginny. And then after that, well, everyone was interested in The Chosen One, weren't they? Nobody wanted the real me."  
  
For a brief moment, Ron was able to forget about the aching in his groin for long enough to remember why they were there. They were supposed to be learning to trust each other enough to build a sustainable relationship. There had to be a way to use this mutual desire to bolster their fragile friendship into a partnership. Overpowering Harry and shagging him senseless was not the best way, although certain parts of Ron's anatomy were in favor of that approach. Ron couldn't think of a better way to prove that he had Harry's best interests at heart than demonstrating self-restraint.  
  
"You know I don't care about that Chosen One rubbish. But I was serious when I said I'd do anything to work things out between us, even if it means sleeping on the sofa. What do you want, Harry?" Ron gazed longingly at Harry's features, wondering if he had the strength of character to deal with a rejection.  
  
"What do I want?" repeated Harry, slightly agitated. "I have no idea what I want. This afternoon I wanted to get the hell out of here as quickly as possible. At dinner, I just wanted us to be friends – the way we used to be. But that was before I knew what I was missing." Harry stopped speaking. Ron didn't move except to rest his hand lightly on top of Harry's. "I guess what I need," Harry said finally, "is time to sort it all out."  
  
Time. Ron could do that. He stared into Harry's eyes, saying, "As long as we're mates again, that's the most important thing. Anything more would be wonderful, but I don't think I could bear going back to where we weren't speaking."  
  
"No, Ron, I don't want that either. I've missed you – missed us – so much." He pulled Ron's mouth to his and kissed him in a way that felt desperate and needy rather than sexual.  
  
They kissed again for a long while, until Ron finally sat up, saying, "This probably isn't helping you sort anything out. I'll go sleep on the couch."  
  
Walking away from Harry was difficult, but Ron knew it was the right thing to do. After they thoroughly kissed each other goodnight, Ron trudged off for a quick wank in the shower before retiring for the night.  
  
Even if the couch hadn't been lumpy in three or four unfortunate places, Ron would have slept poorly that night. He was up most of the night thinking about Harry, and the long-buried feelings that kissing Harry had dredged up. He remembered the night that Harry, Hermione and he had stayed up late drinking a bottle of firewhisky they'd found stashed at Grimmauld Place, and after Hermione had passed out on the sofa, he'd held Harry close and vowed, "I'm gonna take care of you. You're gonna kill that bastard and I'll be standing right beside you. I love you, Harry."  
  
Though he'd been pissed when he said them, the words were still true. Ron loved Harry. And after two years of isolation from him because he hadn't been standing beside Harry like he'd promised, Ron knew he would die to protect him now if he had to. That must be why he had been chosen to partner with Harry. It occurred to him that perhaps the exercise in trust-building had been designed to benefit him as much as Harry.  
  
This physical attraction to Harry had taken him by surprise. To Ron's knowledge, Harry had always been decidedly heterosexual, so Ron had never considered a relationship with him to be a possibility. But as soon as Harry had expressed an interest, it was as if a long-slumbering animal had finally been released from a cage inside his stomach, and it made him want Harry so much that he could hardly breathe.  
  
At sunrise, Ron got up and poked his head into the bedroom. Harry was fast asleep, with a peaceful expression on his face and looking adorable without his glasses. He barely caught the "I love you" that had been rolling around in his head all night as it tried to escape out of his mouth. There was no need to complicate things with loaded phrases that might never amount to anything more than a pleasant idea. But as Ron watched Harry sleep, he was more convinced than ever that somewhere beneath the fear and guilt and anger, he'd fallen in love with Harry.  
  
"So are you going to just stand there and watch me?" asked Harry sleepily. Ron hadn't realized that Harry had awakened, and Harry's voice made him jump.  
  
"I don't know. Maybe," answered Ron with a grin.  
  
Harry rolled onto his side, facing Ron. "What time is it?"  
  
"Around half-past six, I think. The couch was a bit lumpy, so I've been up for a while."  
  
Harry grabbed the corner of the covers and held it up. "Come on in, then. The bed is comfortable."  
  
"I don't know—"  
  
"And I missed you after you left last night," said Harry. Powerless to resist, Ron crawled into the bed and snuggled up next to Harry.  
  
"Harry, I've been thinking."  
  
"Me too," interrupted Harry. "I think we'd better put some thought into this mission so that we can get back home and focus on what we should do from here."  
  
Ron sighed. "That isn't what I was thinking, but you're probably right. If there are Death Eaters around here, I don't fancy meeting up with them when your big green eyes are distracting me."  
  
Harry smiled, but didn't say anything. Instead, he reached across Ron for his glasses and wand, which were sitting on the far bedside table. Ron grabbed him around the middle and pulled Harry down on top of him. Harry squirmed, but Ron could tell that he didn't mind being "captured" at all.  
  
"You're mine, Potter. And now, as your penance, you're going to have to kiss me, morning breath and all."  
  
Harry capitulated immediately, crushing Ron's mouth with his own, as if he'd only been waiting for the smallest of invitations to kiss Ron again. Ron did not have the impression that these were the actions of a man wanting to resume a platonic friendship. Then Harry tickled him while he flung a leg over Ron's torso, and while Ron was laughing, he lifted Ron's arms over his head and sat on top of his conquest.  
  
"No, Weasley, you're mine," smirked Harry. "And as your penance, you have to make breakfast."  
  
Ron noticed that Harry had made no attempt to loosen his grip on Ron's arms. "I can't. I've got this big lug on top of me, so I can't move." Ron licked his lips and bit the lower one seductively. He raised one eyebrow ever so slightly and watched Harry to see what he would do. As hoped, Harry lowered his chest to Ron's and stretched out on top of him, capturing Ron's lips in a kiss as he did so. Before Harry could get too comfortable, Ron pushed off from the mattress with his leg and rolled them so that he was on top of Harry.  
  
Ron kissed him again. "I'll just get breakfast then, shall I?" Before Harry could protest, he got out of the bed. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he walked out of the room.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
"You're looking ravishing today, Buttercup," said Harry with a grin. Across the table, Ron wasn't sure whether he should laugh or kick Harry in the shin with his high heel.  
  
"Darling, you know I don't like it when you call me that in public. It's embarrassing." Ron batted his eyelashes for effect. "I'd hate to have to think up some way to embarrass you in return. It might draw too much attention to us." He smiled sweetly at Harry and winked.  
  
There were not many others in the pub at lunchtime. A few old men at the bar and an attractive woman sitting in the corner were the only other patrons. Their waitress today was a friendly sort, much closer to their age and talkative. She immediately greeted them with an acknowledgement that they must be the couple on holiday that everyone was talking about. Harry chatted with her for a while, but Ron kept quiet for the most part, not knowing if the spell he'd done to change his voice was convincing enough to fool her.  
  
Throughout their meal, Ron noticed the woman in the corner staring at Harry. She would look away whenever Ron caught her staring, but after a while, it was quite obvious. He was surprised at how much he hated the woman for staring at his Harry. He wished the glamour that Harry had chosen for his disguise had been a bit more homely. More than once, Ron reached over for Harry's hand and held it tightly. Each time Harry responded with a pleased grin and a lustful glance.  
  
The woman was still staring when the waitress came over to chat with them again.  
  
"Well, if you don't get many travelers," Harry was asking, "do people ever move here? It's such a beautiful area."  
  
The waitress shrugged. "I can't think of anyone who's moved here in years. Oh, I suppose you could count Maurice and Christie, but they grew up here – we all went to school together as children – but they went off to some fancy boarding school and then on to find fame and fortune in London years ago. Came back a couple years ago to take care of their aging parents, you know." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Odd fellow, that Maurice. Never liked him, even when we were tots. He had a mean streak a mile long. But that's his sister over there, so I won't say nothing bad about him now."  
  
"She looks very familiar," said Ron in the girliest voice he could manage. "I wonder if we've met before. Could she have visited her brother in London?"  
  
"Possibly. Sophia Calderon is her name," the waitress said quietly. When Ron shook his head indicating the name was unfamiliar, she continued, "Of course, it's possible she was married before and went by a different name. She wears a magnificent ring – obsidian and gold, she says – but she's never mentioned an ex."  
  
Ron fiddled with the ring Harry had conjured onto his finger. It was a traditional gold band, and certainly nothing that could be considered magnificent. Still, it was from Harry, and even if it was just part of the disguise, Ron felt there was a promise implied.  
  
When they finally stood up to leave, Ron glanced one more time at Sophia Calderon. She was staring at Harry with interest – too much interest if you asked Ron. On impulse, Ron wheeled around and caught Harry in a hug. Not caring who else was watching, his lips met Harry's in a passionate kiss. If that woman had any designs on Harry, she'd now been warned that Ron wasn't going to give him up without a fight.  
  
Then he chastised himself for being jealous of a complete stranger. Harry was baffled, but pleased. He weaved Ron's fingers in his own and held the door for him as they walked out into the bitter cold afternoon air.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
"Was there something going on there that I should know about?" asked Harry when they Apparated into the cottage again.  
  
Ron took off his heavy cloak and set it on the table. "What do you mean? I didn't hear you protesting."  
  
"If you're wearing a disguise in order not to draw attention to yourself, snogging in the middle of a pub probably isn't your best course of action."  
  
Ron sighed. "Well, that woman was staring at you the whole time we were there. Like she was interested in you. I was just making sure she knows you aren't available."  
  
A wide grin crossed Harry's face. "You were jealous."  
  
"No!" exclaimed Ron. "I just don't want any more complications between us."  
  
Harry was quiet for a few moments as he tapped his face with his wand to remove his glamour charm. Ron was worried that he might have angered Harry because of that kiss. Finally, Harry said, "Ron, this thing we've got going between us – chemistry, or whatever you want to call it – it's not just about sex to you, is it?"  
  
"No," said Ron. He wasn't quite ready to confess everything, though. "It's more important than that."  
  
Ron could feel his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, so he quickly retreated to the bedroom to change. As he pulled off his robes and unbuttoned his shirt, he chastised himself for being a coward in expressing his feelings to Harry. He'd had the perfect opportunity and had just blown it.  
  
He walked over to the mirror and grimaced at his reflection – he made a horrible girl, with his long nose and freckles that were decidedly not "cute." He rifled through his robes looking for his wand so that he could end the glamour charm, but didn't find it.  
  
"Harry, did I leave my wand out here?" he asked as he emerged from the bedroom. Harry said nothing, but pointed vaguely in the direction of the table on which he'd set down his cloak. Sure enough, his wand was resting there. He pointed it towards his face and ended the spell.  
  
When he looked up, Harry was glaring at him with the most feral expression Ron had ever seen. He was a bit concerned that Harry was going to lunge at him and attack him. It was unnerving to say the least.  
  
"All right, Harry?" Ron asked uncertainly.  
  
Harry closed the gap between them and pulled Ron close. "You look like every fantasy I've ever had." Threading his fingers through Ron's hair, Harry kissed him feverishly, with a burning passion that Ron wouldn't have thought him capable of until last night. It wasn't until Harry pushed him back towards the bedroom that Ron realized the vision he must make in his stockings and heels, bare chest clearly visible behind the unbuttoned shirt.  
  
Harry was desperate to get Ron into the bedroom, and when he did, he pushed Ron gently onto the bed. He removed the shirt that was dangling off Ron's shoulders, and then he practically ripped his own clothes from his body. Once naked, he pounced on Ron, his lips and hands seemingly everywhere at once, but favoring Ron's stocking-clad legs. Harry's enthusiasm was intoxicating, and Ron was reeling from the assault on his senses.  
  
There was no other word to describe Harry than wanton, and it was all Ron could do to keep himself from pinning Harry down on the bed and pounding him into the mattress. But even with his brain addled by lust, he was aware that this would be Harry's first time having sex, and he wanted it to be perfect. So instead, he kissed Harry thoroughly, wrapping his leg around him and pressing their hips and cocks together with only the thin fabric of Ron's boxers coming between them. A sexy moan escaped from Harry's throat.  
  
"Harry," he said softly, "are you sure this is what you want?"  
  
"Positive."  
  
"In that case, I'm not quite naked enough," said Ron, sitting up to unhitch the suspenders.  
  
Harry stopped him and pushed him back so that he was lying on the bed. "No, leave them on." Harry fumbled through his discarded clothing until he found his wand, and then used it to banish Ron's boxers. "Fucking gorgeous, you are," he declared, swallowing hard.  
  
With deliberate slowness, Harry's hands traveled the length of Ron's body before bending over him to kiss and lick his way across Ron's chest and down towards his cock. After teasing him for a while by attending to every place but the one spot Ron wanted him to lick, Harry opened his mouth wide and took Ron's cock far into his mouth.  
  
"Holy shit, Harry," cried Ron. The wet heat of Harry's mouth nearly overwhelmed him, and Ron had to take deep breaths to keep himself from coming on the spot.  
  
His groin now pulsating with excitement, Ron found himself repeatedly brought to the edge. At last he had to beg Harry to stop since he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold off.  
  
"God, Harry, I thought you said you hadn't done this before," he breathed as Harry stretched out on top of him again.  
  
"I haven't. But just because I'm inexperienced doesn't mean I'm ignorant. Let's just say that Defense Against the Dark Arts isn't the only thing I've been reading about," answered Harry with a smirk. They kissed again, tongues playfully twining together while hands roamed freely across each other's body.  
  
"There's no substitute for experience, though," panted Ron. He sucked on the hollow of Harry's neck and licked his way up to his ear. "You've obviously given it some thought. How do you want to do this?"  
  
"I can't decide. All I know is that I want you more than anything."  
  
"Do you trust me enough to let me fuck you?" asked Ron. "Because I can make it amazing for you, but you have be able to relax or it will hurt."  
  
Ron held his breath waiting for Harry's answer. Harry didn't trust easily, and Ron had no doubt that Harry's hesitation was not fear of pain, but rather, fear of intimacy. After what seemed like a lifetime, Harry choked out, "I trust you."  
  
Ron wasn't prepared for the rush of emotion those three words evoked, and he was quite sure that he would never love Harry more than he did right now. To keep his mouth from embarrassingly declaring his undying love, he kissed Harry soundly on the lips.  
  
"Okay, then, roll over and tuck your knees under you."  
  
Ron knelt over Harry so that his chest was resting on Harry's back. He whispered into Harry's ear, "The more relaxed you are, the better this will feel. It might hurt a bit at first, but I promise it will get better. Okay?"  
  
Harry nodded, and Ron let his tongue and lips lead a path down Harry's spine. His hands lightly kneaded Harry's muscles, every so often snaking beneath him to tweak a nipple or caress his belly. Once Ron's lips reached the bottom of Harry's spine, he brought his hands to Harry's arse and separated his cheeks. Ron's thumbs deftly rubbed against Harry's hole and his fingers gently massaged the firm flesh of his arse. His tongue licked a path down Harry's crevice, eliciting a guttural moan from Harry. Again and again he did this, each path causing Harry to spread his legs further apart. Ron's tongue pushed against the hole, stabbing and coaxing until, at last, Harry relaxed enough to let it through.  
  
Harry was moaning like a whore, and it was turning Ron on more than anything he'd ever done. Harry begged him for more, pleading for him not to stop. When Ron's tongue was completely exhausted, he replaced it with two fingers, which skillfully found their target. Harry howled with pleasure.  
  
As Ron continued to stretch Harry with his fingers, he grabbed his wand and performed a lubrication spell, spreading the slippery substance along the length of his cock. He worked what he had left over into Harry's arse and then moved his hand to Harry's front to slick up his cock as well.  
  
"You ready?" asked Ron as he settled himself between Harry's spread thighs.  
  
"Please. Now," panted Harry.  
  
Ron could feel the sweat forming on his brow as he slowly entered Harry. Harry was tight, but not painfully so. He hoped to God that he wasn't causing too much pain. "Feel okay?" he hummed into Harry's ear.  
  
"Burns a bit, but I can handle it. I like the feeling, the fullness. Love that it's you."  
  
Ron began to move, and he immediately knew he wouldn't last long. Harry's breath was ragged, and he was pushing back even as Ron bucked forward. They were both groaning with each forward thrust. Harry gave way first, as Ron thrust against his prostate and squeezed his balls at the same time. He came calling Ron's name, his body nearly collapsing through his spasmodic movements. Feeling Harry clench around his cock, Ron came too, his lips buried in Harry's neck, and hands holding on for dear life.  
  
They lay on the bed where they'd collapsed, still entwined together and breathing heavily. "I love you, Harry, more than anything," whispered Ron faintly.  
  
"I – I love you, too," answered Harry. Ron's eyes flew open; he hadn't meant to say that out loud, and he hadn't expected his feelings to be returned. "And that was brilliant."  
  
Ron shifted, gathering Harry into his arms and holding him tight. It seemed like that past two years had been a bad dream, but now everything was going to be all right again. He had his Harry back, and it was even better than before.  
  
"You're laughing," said Harry. "What's so funny?"  
  
"I'm not laughing – I'm just happy, that's all." Ron kissed Harry's temple and stroked his belly.  
  
"Me too. Look, Ron, I'm sorry things got messed up between us, and—"  
  
"Shhh," interrupted Ron. "What happened before was my fault, and I've already promised never to let it happen again. Let's not ruin this by rehashing the past."  
  
Harry answered him with a kiss, and they continued to kiss for a long while. It was completely decadent to lounge in bed all afternoon when they should have been working, but Ron rationalized it by reminding himself that it was a trust-building mission. This was definitely a relationship that could be sustained for further missions; the only problem might be getting any actual work done.  
  
Ron was just about to nod off to sleep when he felt Harry stiffen in his arms. Harry sat up and Ron stared at him, stricken with worry.  
  
"It's her," said Harry, getting out of the bed. He raced into the other room and returned with the dossier of paperwork they'd brought from Headquarters.  
  
"What are you talking about?" asked Ron. He sat up, too, as Harry spread out the papers on the bed.  
  
"Somewhere in here there should be a list of known witches and wizards living in the area. This is a Muggle village, so they'd have to be on file with the Ministry." Harry shoved half of the stack into Ron's arms and frantically paged through the other half.  
  
Ron flipped through the stack of maps and papers looking for the list. "Who are we looking for?"  
  
"That woman – the one who was staring at me during lunch today."  
  
"I don't know, Harry. The way she was eying you didn't seem like she was interested in your magical prowess, if you know what I mean. Unless there's something magical you can do with your arse."  
  
Harry grinned. "Here it is; I found it." Ron leaned over to scan the page with Harry. Three quarters of the way down the page, he saw it. "There. Anita Calderon. Son – Maurice; Daughter – Sophia."  
  
Ron raised his eyebrows. "Impressive, Harry. So now we know she's a witch. But how do you know she's part of a Death Eater clan?"  
  
"It's that ring. I know there's a Death Eater who wears an obsidian ring." Harry got up from the bed and began to pace. Ron found it very difficult to focus with the beautiful eye candy parading before him.  
  
"Did you get a look at it?" asked Ron. "I couldn't see it from where I was sitting."  
  
Harry shook his head. "No. Damn it. I'm sure it was in a briefing I read somewhere. Why the hell can't I remember who it was?"  
  
Ron shut his eyes and focused. "It was Dolohov! Antonin Dolohov. Remember when we fought the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries and Hermione got hit with that curse? She told me once that the last thing she remembered seeing was his obsidian ring."  
  
Harry nodded excitedly. "It all makes sense. He's one of the inner circle who are still at large. She must have some association with him and that ring is a symbol." Harry began to pull on his clothes.  
  
Ron rubbed Harry's back as he sat down to put on his socks. "I was thinking we could go one more time before getting back to work. I haven't got my fill of you yet."  
  
Harry turned to face Ron and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Ron, I have a really bad feeling about this. If that woman is part of the Death Eater clan, and if she's become suspicious of us, then we aren't safe here. I think we need to leave. Now."  
  
"Oh, for God's sake, Harry, you have absolutely no evidence…" exclaimed Ron. Then he stopped himself. This is exactly what happened the last time: Harry came up with some harebrained notion of a conspiracy, and no one had believed him. As ridiculous a coincidence as it would have to be, Ron wasn't willing to risk everything with Harry to prove a point. "All right. Let's just take a quick shower and be off."  
  
"No, Ron, we don't have time. Don't ask me why, but I really feel like we have to leave now." He cast a packing charm and all of his things began to fly into his bag.  
  
Ron hurried to put his clothes on. It wasn't like Harry to be an alarmist, and he had to admit that Harry's hunches were usually true. Sometimes he wondered whether Harry was a Seer. Ron performed his own packing charm and was ready to go in less than a minute.  
  
"So, er, where do you think we should go?" asked Ron as they picked up their things.  
  
Harry led Ron to the window and pointed at an old shed behind a large pile of wood. "I think we should watch the cottage for a while. If I'm right, she followed us home and is going to bring someone back to spy on us. If I'm wrong, well, we won't be alerting anyone else to the fact that I'm an idiot."  
  
"God, Harry, you're not," said Ron. He caught Harry's lips in a passionate kiss. As their tongues fought for dominance, they heard the unmistakable pop of someone Apparating into the next room. Before Ron could even catch his breath, he felt a familiar squeeze as Harry Apparated them out to the shed.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Looking through his omnioculars, Harry could count two men and two women searching the house. The only one who looked familiar was Sophia Calderon. They all wore black robes and Harry could see that one of the men was also wearing a black ring.  
  
The string of the Extendable Ear snaked across the grass and worked itself into the cottage through a crack in the foundation. Ron could hear a woman saying, "I know it was Potter. He was wearing a glamour, but I broke through it and saw his scar. He was with a woman who he claimed was his wife, but she was acting much too possessive. She was probably an Auror as well."  
  
"How come you did not get us sooner?" growled a male voice.  
  
"I came as soon as I was able, but when I stopped back at the house, Mother was ill again." The woman looked distraught, as if she knew she was about to be chastised for letting the two of them get away.  
  
The other man's voice interrupted, "If that woman was also an Auror, then they must be very close partners. The bed is still warm and it smells like sex."  
  
"They've taken their things – they must have gone back to London."  
  
The man growled loudly, shouting, "All hands shall meet at Anita's house at eight o'clock. Potter has probably gone to alert the Aurors now – we'll be discussing additional security. Get the word out the usual way. I'll try to think of something to tell Antonin."  
  
Ron recalled the Extendable Ear and repeated what he'd heard to Harry. "We'd better get back and relay this information if they want to send a team of Aurors back here by eight o'clock."  
  
"I'm going to ask to come back with them," said Harry.  
  
Ron looked up from his bag where he was stowing the Extendable Ears. "You can't, Harry. They'll kill you if they see you again. It's got to be a different team."  
  
"I hate their damn rules," said Harry, stubbornly.  
  
"Their rules are meant to keep you alive. That's something I'm interested in as well. Now, what do you say we stop by my flat before we go back to Headquarters. You look like you've been shagged rather enthusiastically."  
  
Harry leaned in for a kiss. "Sounds good. See you there."  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Harry was laid out on the bed, a wrist bound to each bedpost and a thick blindfold covering his eyes. His knees were locked over Ron's shoulders and he grimaced with each thrust from Ron.  
  
"Please," gasped Harry, "just a little harder."  
  
Sweat was gleaming across Ron's back as he gave Harry everything he asked for. Angling for Harry's prostate, he found it, and Harry came seconds later. Ron came so hard that he saw stars.  
  
Ron could feel Harry's heart racing as he leaned over to unhitch the blindfold. A flick of the wand released the bindings on Harry's wrists as well.  
  
"I don't think I like this exercise," announced Ron as they snuggled together. "I like it better when I can see your eyes."  
  
Harry snorted. "Well, I think it's brilliant. It feels so much more intense when I can't see anything that I don't even mind giving up control."  
  
There was a loud tap on the window, and Ron looked up to see Hedwig. "Looks like she's got a letter," he said, getting up to open the window. Hedwig flew in and stood patiently while Harry pried the letter from her foot.  
  
"It's from the Auror Office," said Harry. He read aloud, "Potter: Sophia and Maurice Calderon have been brought to Headquarters for questioning. Please come in to take part in the interrogation, which will start at 20:30 this evening. Yves."  
  
"We're not scheduled to work until Thursday. No way should we have to come in to do an interrogation," Ron complained.  
  
"Give me a quill," said Harry. He turned over the parchment and wrote, "Yves – Fuck off. Harry and Ron."  
  
"Harry! You can't send that to him! He may be unreasonable, but he's still our boss."  
  
Harry pulled a new piece of parchment from the desk. "All right. How about this: Dear Sir, I have received your message and must respectfully decline your request. I am in the midst of a trust-building exercise, which Mr. Weasley assures me was requested by you several weeks back. I'm sure you'll understand that I don't wish to undo the significant progress I've made. Regards, Harry Potter."  
  
Ron shook his head in amazement. After all this time, Harry Potter was still the bravest wizard he knew. And he, Ron, was the luckiest.  
  
 _  
finis_


End file.
